


Crop Top

by ayyyywhatsup



Series: Viktuuri are a bunch of kinky shits [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, I AM A BEACON OF SIN, M/M, Top Yuuri, Try to spot all the head canons I crammed in this fic, Viktor has a small praise kink oops, bottom viktor, for i have sinned on the lord's day, forgive me jesus, i dare you, yuuri and viktor share clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:09:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9140347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayyyywhatsup/pseuds/ayyyywhatsup
Summary: Yuuri and Viktor share clothes pretty often, and Yuuri doesn't really mind. The only thing that really bothers him about Viktor wearing his shirts is that whenever he raises his arms up it looks like he's wearing a crop top...AKA an overly self indulgent fic for my gay ass





	

Yuuri doesn't know how it happens, or even when. But slowly and surely, pieces of Viktor's clothing make their way into Yuuri's closet, leaving it in a mismatched disarray of pants that are slightly too long and sweaters he wouldn't dress his _grandma_ in. He's pretty sure Viktor's closet looks the same, hoarding clothing that Yuuri's lost over the time he's known Viktor. Yuuri almost wants to tell Viktor that they should just move everything into one closet, just to save him the pain of looking for pants that fit when he's overdue on laundry.

It's not like he minds though, they're roughly the same size so it doesn't really bother him. In fact he finds it kind of cute, seeing Viktor wear his pants and try to pass them off as ankle pants when they both know it's Yuuri's.

The only thing that really bothers him though, is when Viktor wears his shirts. Viktor usually wears a medium, and sometimes a small if big enough. So when he wears Yuuri's sized small shirts, it looks short on his slightly taller frame. It's not too bad, most of the time the hem barely reaches the top of Viktor's waistband. It's just, whenever the Russian raises his arms to grab something, it makes it look like he's wearing a _crop top_.

It gets even worse when Viktor wears Yuuri's older shirts. Shirts that Yuuri doesn't wear anymore because they've shrunken from multiple washes. It's a terrible sight, since they hug Viktor's frame so snugly. Viktor doesn't even have to lift his arms to expose some tummy, a small sliver of pale skin already peeking from underneath the fabric. The sight makes Yuuri regret not throwing the shirts away when he had the chance. Yuuri does _not_ have a problem.(Except he really kind of does).

As the spring transitions into summer, Yuuri's small problem grows even bigger. Instead of loose long sleeved shirts and pants, Viktor's now started wearing Yuuri's old t-shirts and boxers around the house. Yuuri almost wants to arrest him for public indecency, even though the only 'public' in sight is Yuuri and a sleeping Makkachin. 

Yuuri would tell Viktor how much this is affecting him, but he can't. He just feels so perverted for thinking dirty thoughts just because Viktor happens to wear clothes that don't fit. It reminds him of those sleazy dirtbags that his older sister always told him about, the ones who whistle at a girl just for showing their stomach. So Yuuri keeps quiet, and hopes it doesn't all blow up in his face.

*

It all blows up in his face.

It was just another summer day, sun shining brightly as Yuuri wakes up to the sound of a pan sizzling. Stretching, Yuuri puts on his glasses as he sleepily makes his way to the kitchen. He stops in his tracks when he reaches the doorway to the dining room, the sight in front of him making his mouth water more than the growing stack of pancakes.

Viktor was wearing another one of Yuuri's old shrunken shirts, and some long pajama pants (thank god), but he was reaching up into the cupboards to get some plates. The action made the offending piece of clothing rise up deliciously, exposing the smooth, pale expanse of Viktor's back. And just because the world seems to hate him, Yuuri chooses that moment to choke on his spit, causing Viktor to turn around. He greets Yuuri with a cheery smile, hair still mussed from sleep. However the only thing he can focus on is how the shirt Viktor's wearing didn't come all the way down, scrunching up above his belly button.

And because the world _really_ seems to hate him, Viktor, the most oblivious man on earth, manages to notice Yuuri's fixated staring.

"Like what you see?" Viktor smirked as he not so incidentally scratched his stomach. Yuuri was going to die.

Yuuri only fishmouthed, unable to form any sentences. He only stands there frozen in his spot as Viktor turns off the stove and makes his way towards him. Viktor's arms make their way around his neck as he bumps their foreheads together, eyes crossing slightly as he speaks up again.

"So little Yuuri here likes looking at my tummy huh? How come you never told me?"

Yuuri feels his face turn hot, his cheeks flushing a light scarlet red. "Um, no?" He continues again when Viktor's lips curl down into a frown. "I mean yes! I uh, maybe?"

Viktor chuckles, his cool minty breath fanning over Yuuri's face as he moves his head back. "It's ok to admit when you like something Yuuri, we've been over this."

"You mean it's not disgusting? To, you know," Yuuri's hands move from their sides, fingers coming up to brush against the exposed skin, "like this?" 

Viktor gasps at the sensation, and looks at him with a curious but fond expression. "Of course it's not, where'd you get that idea?'

"It's... nothing." When Viktor furrows his brows and frowns, Yuuri continues, looking down as he does so, "It's, I just feel like it's so perverted? Like just because you're showing skin doesn't mean it's a sexual thing." Yuuri doesn't know what gets over him, but words start coming out like a flood, letting out everything he's wanted to say but didn't. "And I feel so dirty for feeling so aroused whenever I see it, especially when you're wearing my shirts. Like, shouldn't it be a cute thing?"

"Yuuri," Viktor says softly, "Look at me." Yuuri looks up into kind and caring eyes, making him feel calmer. "I understand what you're saying, but just because you get sexually aroused by something, it doesn't automatically make it a bad thing." he waves his hand around, "I mean, it's not like you're into fucking dead people are you?"

Yuuri chokes on his spit, feeling scandalized. "No," he says after he recovers. "So you're not disgusted by this?"

"Nope, quite the opposite really, I'd tell you if it really bothers me. Promise."

Yuuri sighs in relief, "Are you sure?"

"100%," Viktor leads Yuuri into the kitchen, arm across his shoulders. "Now let's eat, I think the food's getting cold."

*

Yuuri feels like ever since they've had that talk, Viktor's clothing options have mostly been coming straight out of Yuuri's closet. Viktor doesn't even have the decency to pick out things that actually fit, all of his old, worn out clothes gone. It gives Yuuri a lot of grief, since his shirts sit snugly on Viktor's frame while his pajama pants wrap around his legs so _tightly_.

By now he feels that Viktor's doing it on purpose, if the way he stretches his arms more often is any indication. If he's doing this to egg him on it's working, because all Yuuri wants to do is see that smug face turn into a begging and sobbing mess.

*

His resolve snaps one afternoon. It was too hot to do anything, the two of them lounging around in the living room. Yuuri was knitting a plushie for his mother's birthday, while Viktor was lying down on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

Halfway through, Yuuri makes the mistake of looking up. Suddenly, the summer heat wasn't the only thing causing him to sweat. The sight in front of him was _obscene_ ; Viktor was wearing another one of Yuuri's shirts, an old v-neck he never knew he owned, and briefs. His shirt was riding up with the way Viktor was lying down, most of his belly exposed. Dirty thoughts flitter through Yuuri's mind, images of Viktor in different suggestive positions, wearing that stupid shirt.

He crosses his legs, trying to conceal the arousal growing in between his legs. If he gave in to his desires now, he'll never finish his gift in time.

Yuuri's just about to go back to knitting when he catches it. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Viktor smirking smugly as he continues looking through his phone. That little shit. Has he been doing this on purpose the entire time? Well then, Yuuri thinks as he places his knitting supplies down, what kind of loving fiancé would he be if he didn't take care of his partner?

"Viktor," Yuuri slouched back in his chair, leaning his head on one hand as he spoke. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

"Hm?" Viktor's eyes gleamed with excitement. "What am I doing then?"

Yuuri pushed himself out of the chair, stalking his way over to where Viktor lay. Silently thanking his past self for investing in a wider couch, Yuuri picks Viktor's phone and places it carelessly on the ground. He lies down on top of Viktor, leaving a bit of space between them to let his hands wander down to press against the smooth pale skin.

"I think you know perfectly well," Yuuri presses a light kiss on Viktor's neck, smirking when he feels the older man shiver. "But I guess you need me to spell it out for you, you've been a _bad_ boy, Vitya."

"Oh," Viktor placed his hands on top of Yuuri's, moving them to push his shirt up, exposing even more of the porcelain white skin. "Does that mean you're going to punish me?"

Yuuri bumped his forehead with Viktor's, reaching one of his hands up to tweak one of the Russian's nipples. "Hmm, I should, shouldn't I? Maybe next time, now I'm just going to indulge myself a little."

"And how are you going to do that?" Viktor's breath hitches as Yuuri twists on his nipple harder, the flesh around it starting to turn red.

Yuuri's smirk widens significantly. "You'll see."

*

The sounds of lips moving together fill what would be the silent living room. When they pull apart, a thin string of saliva trails from each other's lips, and Yuuri moves to settle in between his lover's legs. Fingers tease the elastic waistband of Viktor's briefs, pulling and letting go to hear that satisfying 'snap'. Soon those same hands find their way down pale, peach fuzz covered thighs. Fingertips dance lightly across the skin, before his hands find purchase on the backs of the older man's knees. Lifting up slightly, lips find their way to the insides of his partner's thighs, worshipping the smooth skin with feathery kisses. Yuuri places a final kiss on his left thigh, biting lightly before he releases his hold on the slightly shaking legs.

He strips quickly, seeing no need to take the time to put on a proper show. After kicking his clothes to the side, Yuuri returns to his previous position, snickering in his mind when he sees the look on Viktor's face. He already looks so desperate, Yuuri thinks as he slowly pulls off the silver haired man's briefs, and the fun's barely started. Greedy hands make their way to the newly exposed skin to knead full, round globes of flesh. The man below him gasps loudly, before pushing more into the contact. 

When Viktor makes a move to remove his shirt, Yuuri stops him, blushing when he sees him smirk at the action. "I forgot," Viktor teases as he pulls the shirt back down. "you liked this sort of thing, me wearing your clothes. I do too, makes it feel like I'm _yours_."

The words go straight to his cock, feels it twitch slightly as he tries to get his blush under control. He can't help but agree, if he had his way, Viktor would wear a collar with Yuuri's name on it everywhere they went. Taking another look at the man below him, Yuuri feels that he would readily agree.

"Maybe you should wear them all the time then." He decides to voice his thoughts, "Get you a nice little collar too, make sure _everyone_ knows who you belong to."

That comment wipes the smirk off of Viktor's face, his mouth hanging open as a scarlet red blush covers his cheeks. A hot flash of possessiveness strikes Yuuri the more he thinks about it, and he thinks that maybe they need to have another kink talk after they're finished. Now though, he returns to the task at hand, running a hand through silver hair as he continues.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" he tugs on the hair softly, other hand reaching down to draw circles on his lover's hips. He grins smugly when he hears his breath hitch. "You'd like it if everyone knew what happens behind closed doors wouldn't you? Let them know how much you love giving yourself to me, how much you love being _used_."

"Yuuri," the Russian whines, "Please, get on with it already."

"Ah ah, I told you," Yuuri leans down to place a wet kiss on pink lips, "I'm indulging myself, that means you wait."

Deciding he's tortured the silver haired man enough, Yuuri sticks his hand under one of the cushions, retrieving the bottle of lube that they stuck there after many sessions on the couch. He uncaps the bottle, making sure to squeeze a liberal amount on his fingers. His eyes never leave the beautiful man in front of him as he does this, taking pleasure in the way he watches Yuuri with needy anticipation.

A slick finger finds its way to Viktor's rim, circling the flesh before it slowly sinks in, drawing out a low moan. Slowly, he pushes in and out, adding another finger when he feels the muscles around his finger relax. This is his favorite part, Yuuri thinks as he fingers his lover open slowly, because of how needy Viktor gets. As if on cue, the man below him whines out a string of 'please's' and 'fuck me's'.

If he were a better man, he would listen to the man begging so nicely. But he isn't, smirking deviously as he inserts a third finger, curling them as he does so. Viktor's hole spasms around his fingers when he nudges against his prostate, and Yuuri has to grip the base of his dick to keep from cumming at the feel of it.

Pulling his fingers out, he ignores the whine coming from below as he slicks up his cock, thumbing his tip when he's done. He positions himself and pushes in slowly, relishing the way Viktor's moaning as he bottoms out. The pleasure he's feeling is indescribable, even after all this time he still can't get used to the way the tight heat clenches around his cock. His hips still as he takes the time to appreciate the sight below him.

Viktor's cheeks are flushed a beautiful red, his eyes glazed over with lust. Yuuri brushes some sweaty strands of hair away from his forehead, then moves to shift the shirt that somehow moved back down, up and out of the way.

With his hands gripped tightly on Viktor's hips, he moves down to latch his mouth onto his neck, Yuuri speaks up. "Feel so good Vitya, so tight and hot around me."

"Oh god, Yuuri," Viktor whines as he tries to thrust his hips, "I'm so full, you fill me up so good. Now if you don't mind, you can start fucking me now."

Yuuri looks up after leaving a splotchy mark on his neck. Even with a cock up his ass, Viktor still manages to be demanding when he wants to.

He pulls his hips back and snaps them forward, greedily taking in the way the older man's back arches from the action. "You want to get fucked don't you?" Thrust. "Then why don't you stop that sass of yours?" Thrust. "And take what I give you like the good boy you are."

At Viktor's high pitched moan and nod, he begins thrusting his hips at a steady pace. The grip on his lover's hips are punishing, he's sure they're going to leave bruises the next day. Moans and whimpers spill out from pretty pink lips as he thrusts into him roughly. His eyes are clouded with pleasure, threatening to close shut as his arms scramble behind him to clutch onto the sofa as he's rocked back and forth. He looks fucked out, and Yuuri's sure he looks the same.

He's close, can feel his orgasm bubbling warmly in his belly. Not wanting to cum before his partner, Yuuri moves a hand to grab Viktor's neglected cock, jerking him off in time with his thrusts. He smirks as Viktor's hips twitch, as if they're unsure about meeting Yuuri's thrusts, or fucking up into his hand. Angling his thrusts, Viktor cries out when Yuuri hits the exact spot that makes him see stars. At that, he targets that spot relentlessly, watching as his lover's eyes close shut, mouth gaping open as a little line of drool drips out.

"Cum for me Vitya," Yuuri pants as his thrusts start to lose their rhythm, "You can do that can't you? Be a good boy and cum."

Cum spills out onto his hand as Viktor cries out, becoming boneless as Yuuri chased his own orgasm. All sense of rhythm was lost, shallow and rapid thrusts taking place before the pleasure bubbled over. His hips twitched from sensitivity as he came thick, white ropes of cum into Viktor's ass. He pulls out slowly as Viktor whines pathetically, watching with lewd fascination as he watched his cum spill out.

The two lover's kissed languidly, basking in the after glow of their orgasms. When they pulled apart, Viktor spoke, disrupting the silence that fell upon the room.

"God I love you Yuuri," the Russian smiled tiredly up at him, causing his heart to constrict from fondness. "But do you mind cleaning me up? My legs feel like jelly."

Yuuri knew he should clean up, he knew Viktor was tired, but he couldn't help but want _more_. It's Viktor's fault anyway, dick twitching weakly in interest as he took in the lewd sight in front of him. His shirt was rumpled, revealing red blotches over the smooth expanse of skin. Sweaty silver was pushed back, revealing tired, watery eyes. In general Viktor looked like a mess, but a not so small part of Yuuri wanted to absolutely _ruin_ him.

For the umpteenth time that day, Yuuri smirked wickedly as he rubbed quivering thighs. "Oh," he said as slender fingers creep their way to Viktor's soiled hole, "but I'm not done yet."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Feel free to yell at my tumblr @kinkshamingonice


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